The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-21 14:32:58 -

The Pale Bonsai

The feast was a grotesque parody of harvest, held in the Great Hall of the manor where the air tasted of stale candle smoke and the metallic tang of old blood. We sat in a long, curved row, the elders at the high table and the novices at the low end, and I watched the light from the forty tallow candles flicker against the stone walls, a trembling, arrhythmic pulse that seemed to match the...

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